[Something about this scene is just plain wrong. The room is liberally splattered with gore, and yes the red, wet mess of the Emperor's thigh is steadily stitching itself back together, but a wound like that-- it ought to be healed by now. Maybe he'd been ripped into ragged pieces before she'd arrived, maybe the injuries had been so much worse than what she's seeing before her now...but this is a guy who'd zipped back together when he'd been little more than atomised particles. He'd done it like it was nothing, no signs of strain, no lagging weakness. Now he's dripping with blood-sweat like a regular necromancer and it's unnerving somehow-- but this isn't the time to try figuring things out. She’s still thinking with her muscles, here.
She's at his side in an instant, gaze carefully averted as he struggles into his pants. One hand still on her sword, the other goes for his shoulder before she can think better of it.]
I'll fucking kick its ass for it. [She says, and then, with a touch more bewilderment--] What can I do??
[ He doesn't shrug her off, just nods as if the question is a good one. Part of why he'd reached out had just been because if he hadn't had the motivation of not letting her see him looking pathetic he would have kept just lying there on the floor indefinitely. But now she's here and he has a use for her, as he always seems to. ]
We have to hunt it.
[ Even if he hadn't been exhausted by days of going flat out with the necromancy, he would need someone with a weapon and the ability to use it, because there's a lot that necromancy just can't do against the monsters.
He picks up a heavy coat, slings it over his arm, looks around for shoes. Explains the cold weather clothing: ]
I don't know if it's still inside - it can move through the walls using shadows. If it kills I'll be able to feel it, but if it doesn't — it walks, it has a cane, should leave prints in the snow. Let's start by checking the boarding house - did you hear anything on your way here?
[It has a cane nags at something at the back of her mind, threatens to rise more fully into her consciousness, but-- it's hard to think around her own flailing emotions at seeing him like this, at the surge of Wilk protectiveness and ownership that floods through her. Don’t touch her stuff. Don't touch her fucking stuff.
Right now, at least, hunt it is something she can understand, right down to the bones of herself.
She'll try to help him stand, lend her physicality wherever it's needed, and she's already nodding with grim determination and something a little wilder and fiercer than that as he carries on talking. She’ll hunt this fucker down, alright.]
I didn't hear anything, but I kinda had just the one thing on my mind at the time. If it leaves prints, we should start there. No prints outside, we'll know it's still inside.
[ It's a smart call, decisive in the moment, and it's hard not to feel just a twinge of pride at that quickness. Real leadership potential, his Kiriona.
He exhales hard at his first limping step but doesn't lean on her, forcing himself to walk through the pain in his healing thigh. ]
Hopefully I don't slow you down. Or would you be willing to let me siphon from you? Barely anything, you won't notice it.
[ A bit awkward, when she's Harrowhark's cavalier, but it would help a lot. ]
[There's a small, stupid thrill of pride in her in the wake of his praise, but luckily there's too much else going on for her to feel properly irritated by how easy she is to please. He's walking heavy, breathing hard, and it just isn't right--
--then his question comes and something finally clicks into place. He wants to siphon from her. Something he surely shouldn't need whilst connected to freezer barbie. Which can only mean that, right now, he isn't fully connected. She eyes him carefully, saying nothing of this new suspicion. It can wait until after they've hunted down the thing that caused all of this.]
Riiiiiight.
[She says it slow, and maybe that's enough to clue him in to her thought-processes here.
She's not his cavalier, but Harrow would want this, right? She wants this. He won't be much use in a fight in a weakened state.]
[ Did she get that reliability from nineteen years on the Ninth? She sure as fuck didn't get it from him. If there was ever any real possibility that Gideon was actually her dad he'd have to be a little concerned, because they have that same easy and dutiful willingness to be used. Battery up. For fuck's sake.
When he first makes the connection it's hard to be careful — she's so full of energy, and it feels right when he takes a little, even moreso than the burning sun of Alecto. Is this what all the others had had, in their cavaliers? Why Mercy still loved Cristabel after so much time?
But as much as he wants to metaphorically gulp down power, he doesn't use more than he needs to properly put himself to rights. If they encounter House's monster, or someone badly injured, he might need more, but for now he wants to be as gentle and considerate as possible. She isn't, after all, his cavalier. ]
Good stuff. Thanks. Let's go.
[ He won't actually ruffle her hair, but it's there in his voice, and he's not limping anymore. ]
[She's braced for it when it comes, the flayed-nerve ache of it, like someone's taken sandpaper to her soul. So it's a surprise, almost, when what she feels is...different. A needling sting at some place inside of her that she can't really name, a weird citrus-scouring that comes quick and cold and then gone again before she can fully process it. It's weird as hell, and not exactly a nice feeling-- but it's manageable.
She shakes herself - like a wolf shaking water from its pelt - but she doesn't miss so much as a step. Instead she's shouldering her bone-sword, focused on kicking some monster ass.]
On it.
[She'll stalk out into the corridor just a half-step behind him, watching his back but already poised to shove him behind her if she needs to.]
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She's at his side in an instant, gaze carefully averted as he struggles into his pants. One hand still on her sword, the other goes for his shoulder before she can think better of it.]
I'll fucking kick its ass for it. [She says, and then, with a touch more bewilderment--] What can I do??
no subject
We have to hunt it.
[ Even if he hadn't been exhausted by days of going flat out with the necromancy, he would need someone with a weapon and the ability to use it, because there's a lot that necromancy just can't do against the monsters.
He picks up a heavy coat, slings it over his arm, looks around for shoes. Explains the cold weather clothing: ]
I don't know if it's still inside - it can move through the walls using shadows. If it kills I'll be able to feel it, but if it doesn't — it walks, it has a cane, should leave prints in the snow. Let's start by checking the boarding house - did you hear anything on your way here?
no subject
Right now, at least, hunt it is something she can understand, right down to the bones of herself.
She'll try to help him stand, lend her physicality wherever it's needed, and she's already nodding with grim determination and something a little wilder and fiercer than that as he carries on talking. She’ll hunt this fucker down, alright.]
I didn't hear anything, but I kinda had just the one thing on my mind at the time. If it leaves prints, we should start there. No prints outside, we'll know it's still inside.
no subject
[ It's a smart call, decisive in the moment, and it's hard not to feel just a twinge of pride at that quickness. Real leadership potential, his Kiriona.
He exhales hard at his first limping step but doesn't lean on her, forcing himself to walk through the pain in his healing thigh. ]
Hopefully I don't slow you down. Or would you be willing to let me siphon from you? Barely anything, you won't notice it.
[ A bit awkward, when she's Harrowhark's cavalier, but it would help a lot. ]
no subject
--then his question comes and something finally clicks into place. He wants to siphon from her. Something he surely shouldn't need whilst connected to freezer barbie. Which can only mean that, right now, he isn't fully connected. She eyes him carefully, saying nothing of this new suspicion. It can wait until after they've hunted down the thing that caused all of this.]
Riiiiiight.
[She says it slow, and maybe that's enough to clue him in to her thought-processes here.
She's not his cavalier, but Harrow would want this, right? She wants this. He won't be much use in a fight in a weakened state.]
Battery up.
no subject
When he first makes the connection it's hard to be careful — she's so full of energy, and it feels right when he takes a little, even moreso than the burning sun of Alecto. Is this what all the others had had, in their cavaliers? Why Mercy still loved Cristabel after so much time?
But as much as he wants to metaphorically gulp down power, he doesn't use more than he needs to properly put himself to rights. If they encounter House's monster, or someone badly injured, he might need more, but for now he wants to be as gentle and considerate as possible. She isn't, after all, his cavalier. ]
Good stuff. Thanks. Let's go.
[ He won't actually ruffle her hair, but it's there in his voice, and he's not limping anymore. ]
no subject
She shakes herself - like a wolf shaking water from its pelt - but she doesn't miss so much as a step. Instead she's shouldering her bone-sword, focused on kicking some monster ass.]
On it.
[She'll stalk out into the corridor just a half-step behind him, watching his back but already poised to shove him behind her if she needs to.]